At the End of the Day
by MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: Ron and Hermione try to have some "me time" once their kids are in bed. Post-war fluff.


**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for ReadBooksWriteThings for HPFC's Monthly One-Shot Exchange :) It's extremely fluffy… I hope that's okay. **

**Childcare EC: Write about a parent(s) having (or attempting to have) "me time" after putting their child to bed**

**Word Count: 1051**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to JK Rowling.**

**(pairing) RonHermione**

**(genre) romance**

**(color) yellow**

**(drink) tea**

**(word) believe**

**Enjoy!**

"Ah, _finally_." Ron collapsed onto the sofa, stretching his long limbs out and dropping his socked feet onto Hermione's lap. "I thought those kids would never go to sleep."

Hermione laughed softly and rolled her brown eyes. She shoved Ron's feet off her lap and crawled over to curl up next to him instead. "Just you wait," she said, "those kids will be out here in minutes to come bother us again."

Ron sighed heavily, but he was smiling. He draped a freckled arm over Hermione's shoulders and pulled her closer to him. Hermione buried her face in her husband's mustard yellow jumper, feeling content. They'd been married for ten years now, and she still couldn't quite believe how lucky they were to have such a beautiful family.

"You know," Hermione murmured, "I love you."

Ron's lips twitched. "And it only took winning a revolution to get you to admit that, eh?"

Hermione nudged him in the ribs. "It wasn't technically a revolution—Voldemort was the one trying to overthrow order."

"Ah, ah, ah," Ron protested, wagging his finger. "_Technically_, Voldemort had taken over the Ministry, so it _was_ a revolution."

Well, Hermione had to concede him that. "Fine, you win. You've gotten better at technicalities."

Ron laughed, and the sound warmed Hermione to the bone. "What can I say? I had to adapt to survive being married to you. Couldn't lose every conversation, now, could I?"

In response, Hermione tilted her face up to kiss the underneath of Ron's jaw. It was prickly with stubble, and Hermione trailed her fingers along his cheek. "You know, Ron…" She lifted an eyebrow. "The baby's asleep—for now, at least—and the toddler is out for the night… I hope. We could do something fun."

Ron groaned. "Hermione, we're not playing Scrabble again."

They played Scrabble again.

"You know," Ron said twenty minutes into the game, "this is nice." He looked over at his wife, his freckled face split into a small grin. "We should do this more often."

Hermione huffed out a laugh and tucked her legs beneath herself. "Hugo and Rose should sleep through the night more often."

Ron hummed his agreement. "It's kind of funny," he murmured a second later. "Growing up, I never really thought I'd have kids. I thought I'd had enough of people invading my space." Ron ran a hand through his red hair and rolled his eyes at himself. "But nothing ever goes as planned, now, does it?"

Hermione placed down a few tiles—she was destroying Ron in this game, as usual—then regarded him thoughtfully. "Oh, I don't know about that." She nodded towards her wedding ring. "Some things do."

Ron shook his head. "Yeah, you're right. Just like al—ah, damn." He frowned at the game board, his hand hovering above it uncertainly. After a solid minute he sighed, his blue eyes flickering over to his smirking wife. "Fine, you win."

Hermione leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. "Try not to take it too personally."

Ron snorted. He leaned back on the sofa as Hermione cleaned up with a flick of her wand. Once she'd finished, Ron dug his own wand from his pocket and cocked a brow. "Tea?"

Hermione crawled over—they'd separated during the game—and settled against his chest. "Yes, please," she said with a contented smile.

Ron waved his wand, and Hermione heard the kettle begin to boil. She played with a thread on her red cardigan and felt Ron running his fingers through her wild, curly hair. Lulled into a state of relaxation, Hermione's eyes began to droop closed…

"Mummy?"

Hermione's eyes fluttered back open. She sat up and stretched, shooting Ron an apologetic look, then turned to her daughter. "Rose? Is something the matter?"

The little girl turned wide, brown eyes on her mother, her lower lip jutting out. "It's dark in there, Mummy."

"Well!" Ron stood abruptly, throwing Hermione off balance. "That won't do now, will it? Come on, Rosie." Ron walked over and scooped his daughter into his arms. "I think a good bedtime story will be just the thing to help."

Rose grinned into his shoulder, looking absolutely precious in a pink nightgown. Ron rubbed her back and went to grab a book; Hermione stood up to watch them. He was a good father—he loved to read the kids stories in funny voices, he played with them when he returned home from work, and he always had plenty of love to spread around.

Hermione never would have expected it when they were teenagers, but Ron was careful with his children in a way he wasn't careful with anything else. His love for them knew no bounds, and neither did his loyalty. A smile curved her lips. He was a _very _far cry from the boy he'd been.

She loved him anyway.

When Ron crept back out into the hallway, Hermione grabbed the front of his jumper, stood on her tip-toes, and pressed her lips to his. Ron made a sound of surprise, but soon enough he was relaxing into the kiss. When she eventually pulled away, he was grinning.

"I dunno what I did to deserve that," he whispered, "but I think we should do it again."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I just wanted you to know how much I love you."

Ron's eyes turned fond. "I love you, too."

Hermione nodded, pulling her hair over one shoulder so she could twist it around her fingers, a habit of hers when she was thinking fast. "Rose should be asleep for real this time… While Hugo's sleeping, we could play another—"

A shrill cry pierced the air, and Ron patted his wife's shoulder sympathetically. "We're not getting any more down time tonight, 'Mione," he muttered with a tired smile.

Hermione huffed and rolled up her sleeves. "I figured that for myself, thanks. I've got to feed him right now, but I'll be back soon. And who knows? Maybe we'll be able to play a new game if he settles easily."

That startled a laugh out of Ron. "We must be talking about different kids," he said with a grin. Still, he pecked her on the cheek and squeezed her shoulder. "I'm looking forward to it."

Hermione breathed in deeply and squeezed his hand before turning to get Hugo. "So am I."


End file.
